Sound of Settling
by chancetofly24
Summary: Postrescue, Kate and Jack spend some time in the airplane bathroom. Smut, of course. :P


This wasn't how you imagined your first time with him to be, this flurried heat of passion in the bathroom of the airplane.

You'd been on the island for six months – six months in which you felt both infinitely free and trapped just the same, unable to move about as you wished, and no reason to need to do so. The tension had always been there, between you, and him, and Sawyer. But there is little privacy on a deserted island, and somehow you couldn't bring yourself to choose one over the other. Everyone, even Sawyer, knew that you would choose Jack in the end, he was a part of you, a part that you couldn't erase and wouldn't want to. He made you want to be a better person, to live up to the expectations he had for you, ones that were built from things he knew you were capable of. Being with Jack was equal to being free – he never held it over your head that you were a fugitive, you never even were reminded of that in his presence.

And Sawyer, Sawyer was the other part of yourself, the part you'd tried to ignore and run away from. He was exactly like you, deceitful and lying and a con artist – and that's why it would never work. With one snide comment or a sidelong look, it would all flood back into your mind. You were a fugitive, he was a doctor. It would never work.

But it did. The three of you bonded and formed a relationship that was based upon dancing around the obvious issues, ones of lust and desire and longing. You fought to get past it and even though you never vocalized your choice, you made it clear that you had chosen Jack. It had been hard for him to believe it at first, still expecting you to flit back and forth between the two like you had done in the first couple of months on the island. But the special glances and extra time spent with him were reassuring in ways that words could not be.

And yet, nothing was done about it. You two had grown together to a comfortable state – eating together and sometimes sleeping together, but only sleeping. He would occasionally place a chaste kiss on your forehead, or slip his fingers around yours as you were walking from the hatch to the beach, but he knew never to take it farther, and you didn't make any effort to advance it.

That is, until after you were rescued.

You and Jack were walking back from the hatch, having just finished another mind-numbing six hours of sitting and pressing the button. You had occupied yourself by sifting through the records on the shelves, searching for decent ones and squealing with glee when you found one. Jack had sat on the couch, watching you with a grin on his face before pulling you into his lap, your head resting on his legs as he played with your hair. You had both fallen asleep, only to be woken up by the beeping and Locke's entrance, signaling the end of your shift. You rubbed your eyes and took Jack's hand, grateful for the warm sunlight as you made your way through the jungle.

You had just stepped out onto the beach, a few steps ahead of Jack, when you suddenly stopped short, making him bump into you. There was a boat, beached on the sand, and everyone was scurrying around, gathering the belongings they had from the plane and those they had accumulated on the island. Your heart sank as you realized what this meant – the officials were sure to see you and handcuff you on the spot.

Surprisingly, they didn't. You had let go of Jack's hand and walked blindly to the officials, stumbling over the uneven sand, your eyes unfocused. You reached one and held your arms out slightly, barely hearing Jack yelling your name. But the official had just stared at you as if you were crazy and asked if you were planning on getting on the boat, or staying on this damn island forever. Realizing what was going on, you shook your head and bit your tongue, grasping behind you for the hand that you knew was waiting.

The boat had navigated the crystal blue waters, arriving in Sydney a day later, where you were all boarded onto another plane headed for L.A. No one was very happy about flying again so soon after the crash, but there was really no other way, so they made themselves comfortable and most of the survivors fell asleep.

Except you and Jack. You sat awake, staring out the plane's window at the patchwork of fields and lots below, where rivers intersected backyards and toys left out looked like little colored dots, as Jack quietly read a magazine. As you looked out the window, you thought about why, when everything about Jack was perfect, you wouldn't allow yourself to be given to him completely. It was partly due to so many years on the run, you knew – you were used to having meaningless relationships whose sole purpose was to further one of your plans, or to keep them secret about what they had seen. You hadn't felt anything for these men, and the intense vulnerability that you would feel when Jack saw you, felt you, tasted you, for the first time, was what you were truly afraid of.

It was only now, in this limbo state between the worries on the island and the pressures of real life that you felt uninhibited, free to act on your needs and desires instead of worrying about anything else. Taking a deep breath, you leaned over so that your mouth was pressed below his ear and you placed a soft kiss there, surprising him.

"I'm going to the bathroom. If I'm not back in five minutes, you'd better come find me."

And with that, you got up out of your seat, excusing yourself over his legs, and made your way down the aisle, leaving him to make his own decision whether to follow you or not.

You waited inside the tiny bathroom, fixing your hair and pacing as much as the small space permitted, wondering if you'd made a mistake or if he'd suddenly changed his mind about you.

'This isn't how our first time is supposed to be,' you think, but you're interrupted by the sound of a soft knock on the door, and you let out the breath you didn't even realize you'd been holding, opening it to see Jack standing there, his hands in his pockets.

"Hey," he says, a look of slight confusion etched across his face. "You oka –"

Before he can even finish his question, you pull him in by the collar of his shirt and shut the door, turning him so that his back is against the wall as you press your mouth roughly against his, your fingers curling into the top of his jeans. You can feel his slight gasp against your mouth at your forwardness, but it's quickly silenced as you kiss him open-mouthed, running your tongue along the crease between his lips, begging for entrance. He complies and soon the kiss is getting deeper and deeper, and you're forced to break away for air.

He pulls away, resting his hands on your waist and looking deep into your eyes, seeing how uncharacteristic this is for you, and making sure it was okay before he went ahead. You nod, almost imperceptibly, but enough of a signal for him. He nods in response and pulls you closer, kissing you lightly before unbuttoning your shirt and pulling off, leaving you in a tank top. He moves the strap off of your shoulder and begins kissing there as his other hand holds onto your waist, keeping you steady. He trails kisses up your neck, stopping to trace the curve of your collarbone with his tongue before continuing up to your ear, leaving a wet kiss beneath it and then moving away to tilt your chin up to the passionate kiss waiting for you.

You groan into his mouth as you reach for the button of his jeans, swiftly undoing it and the zipper and pulling them down, freeing him and causing him to jump slightly when you wrap your small hand around him. You move your hand up and down, rubbing your thumb over the tip every couple of strokes as you watch his face, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. You keep your hand going in a steady motion, even when he tries to pull it away. He comes in a hot flash, his release dripping down your hand as he rests against the wall.

You grab some toilet paper and wipe your hand off roughly, turning to kiss him again, but he grabs for your waist and flips you around, your back landing hard against the wall. He reaches for your jeans and quickly unbuttons them, tugging them down to your ankles along with your underwear, and he follows suit, kneeling in front of you in the small space. He holds on to the backs of your thighs as he nudges your legs open with his head, his mouth seeking your warmness. He finds it and you moan as his tongue flicks over you and in you, tasting you as his tongue plunges into your folds. He lets go of one of your legs and moves his other hand up to your stomach, keeping you upright as he inserts two fingers, thrusting into you as his tongue traces your outlines. You cry out as he curls his fingers up one last time and you come over his hand and mouth, covering them in the sweet release that had been pent up for what seemed like forever.

He stays on the floor, licking up every last drop, until he knows you're becoming aroused again. He stands and kisses you hard, his tongue darting out and letting you taste yourself in his mouth. He pulls away and trails his hands underneath the bottom of your shirt, pulling it off to expose your bra, which you quickly unclasp as he leans into you, putting his mouth near your ear. "You taste so fuckin' good," he whispers there, sending shivers up and down your spine.

He skims his hands over the front of you, mapping your body, before you leans down and takes you in his mouth, sucking lightly as you groan and run your hands over his soft, closely cropped hair. He moans as you reach down and grab him again, and with a few quick strokes, he's rock-hard in your palm. He pulls you towards him and spins you around, lifting you onto the counter in one quick motion. He kisses you again, and positions himself in front of you, one hand on your thigh and one on the mirror behind you. You both breathe in sharply as he enters you, stopping for a moment to kiss your neck before starting a slow, steady rhythm. You're both so wet that the size of him is hardly a problem as he slides in and out of you, slipping once and pulling too far out, causing you to whimper before he moved back in again, filling you entirely. You wrap your legs around his waist as he moves deeper and deeper inside of you, his motions speeding up as you both reach the edge.

Sensing how close you both are, he slips his hand between the two of you and rubs gently where you meet, causing you to dig your fingernails into his shoulders at the sudden overwhelming pleasure. With one final thrust, you both come together in a flash of white heat, his body slumped against yours and your heartbeats rapidly pounding together as you sit and try to catch your breath.

He stands up and carefully pulls out of you, sighing when you do at the loss of contact.

Drawing you to his chest, he kisses your forehead and the back of your hand that is tangled with his.

"God," he breathes. "I've been waiting to do that for months."

You smile and kiss him deeply, teasing him with your tongue to give him something for the long flight home, as you trail your hand down to his and squeeze it. You both get dressed and fix your appearances and you grab his hand, leading the way back to your seats, knowing that no matter how different it was from when you had imagined it, you feel complete for the first time in your life.


End file.
